Coexistence
by maeror
Summary: Speedy x Aqualad drabbles. [Decision: It was too much for me to bear. If I had to spend one more day living with him and staring at him and just watching him all the goddamn time... I'd go mad.]
1. Repair

**Coexistence**

**Prompt:** "Repair"  
**Summary**: _All Roy wanted was a working TE-ship, but Garth made him say… 'it.'_  
**Words:** 393  
**Dating Status:** Before  
**Prelude:** None  
**Continuation:** Undecided  
**Notes:** At nearly 400 words (at least, this one is), these aren't truly 'drabbles.' But they're too short to be called one-shots, so I'm grouping them together under one big pile of SpAqua drama. I couldn't do this on LJ, seeing as I can't regularly access/load LJ, and so I just picked out a few random words and forced myself to set a story to them. The table of all 100 words is on my profile, if you're curious as to what I'm attempting to do. Anyway, please enjoy… 

**Repair**

"Say it!"

Roy stared at me, lips pursed, arms folded, indignant in all aspects of the word. "Listen, all I want you to do is fix the damn eng—"

"_Say_ it!"

"—ine on the damn TE-ship! I know you can; you lived with that mechanic fish-thing for who-knows-how-long!"

I shook my head, leaned forward over my desk and grinned. "So say it."

For the last five minutes, I had merely been trying to get him to say 'please.' That's it. Not a 'pretty please with a cherry on top'—Gods, Roy would never involve himself with anything as sugary as cherries—but just a simple 'please.' Then I would fix the engine on the ship and he could take his girlfriend or Raven or Karen or the twins or even some stuffed animals on a ride.

All it would take is some courtesy. If he couldn't utter a single syllable, insincerely if need be, he didn't deserve to even be on the team.

"Say it," I sing-songed, tapping my pen on the desk. "You know you want to…!"

For some reason, this taunting was making him blush. A distinct tinge of pink was creeping across the bones of his cheeks and his ears had already turned a vibrant red.

"Dammit, Garth, why can't you just fix the—"

"Say. It."

He clenched his fists at his sides and turned a bright shade of fuchsia. "Fine!" he bit out through gritted teeth. But instead of saying the tiny word, he spun away, shaking himself violently before turning again, expression a strange mix of anxiety and anger. "Fine!"

I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. "Sorry. 'Fine' isn't the word I'm looking for."

His expression dropped into a submissive pout and he murmured something, finally. "I love you."

"There you go! Now, was that so…" I felt my eyes go blank and sat upright, openmouthed. "Wait, Roy, _what_ did you say?"

But he didn't answer. His gaze was glued to the carpeting, his face twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. He had said 'I love you,' I knew that. And by his posture, he meant all three words.

"Roy…"

Throwing me a spiteful glare, he frowned, as close to the verge of tears as I've ever seen him. "What?" he asked softly.

I could barely find my voice. "I… I just wanted a 'please'…"


	2. Invitation

**Prompt:** "Invitation"  
**Summary**: _He wants more, but he can't take it by force._  
**Words:** 414  
**Dating Status:** During  
**Prelude:** None  
**Continuation:** Very loosely connected to "White" and "Red"  
**Notes:** Awkward tense, awkward point-of-view. Sorry…

**Invitation**

He watches the dark-haired, pale-skinned prince from afar, wishing he had the courage to do more for him. To do more _to_ him. He is no longer content with goodnight kisses and fests of heated groping. No—he wants to sleep with him, to reach the ultimate level of ecstasy a person can reach. And he wants to do it with the Atlantean he loves, the only one he's ever truly desired.

The Atlantean turns at the end of the pool, graceful under the water's surface. In the balcony, the archer sighs.

He knows his past, he knows the hearts he's broken, and he knows his reputation. The man two stories below knows the reputation as well, and that scares Roy. He wants to be trusted, to be known as the most faithful lover in the history of the world.

But he's scared that the prince will think he's just trying to get into his bed. He doesn't want to be labeled as a whore, and he certainly wants his would-be lover to feel special. Not only special, but loved, and cared for.

Most of all, the redhead wants him to extend a hand one night, an invitation into his bedroom, a request to join him under the covers. He wants to be looked at with needy violet eyes that beg, that say _I want you_ and _I need you_ when words are too loud, too inadequate. But the prince hasn't asked him for anything, and the only thing those eyes construed were lonely questions: _Am I being used?_

The last thing the man on the balcony wants is to hurt his teammate, his partner, his love. He doesn't want him to feel forgotten or used or lonely or normal or guilty.

But he doesn't want to ruin him. He doesn't understand why Garth even loves him—he's a terrible person, unfit for desire. The only ones who could love a man like him are those who sell their bodies for profit.

Certainly not someone as beautiful and perfect as the Atlantean currently swimming laps.

So if the archer were to make love to him without one-hundred percent of the Atlantean's heart into the deed, it would feel as if he was raping him, defiling him, making him unholy and as unworthy as the archer himself.

And thus, he is waiting for that extended hand, those needy eyes. He only requires the willingly-given invitation, and then he'll give his love everything he ever wanted.


	3. Hatred

**Prompt:** "Hatred"  
**Summary**: _Laying awake at night, hearing the sinuous acts of the archer and his present 'girlfriend,' Garth can only feel one thing._  
**Words:** 160  
**Dating Status:** Before  
**Prelude:** None  
**Continuation:** Envy  
**Notes:** Ehh… xD

**Hatred**

The last thing Garth heard that night were the agonizingly pleasurable screams from the bedroom down the hall.

The last thing he contemplated that night was the reason why Roy felt the need to sleep with so many girls a month.

The last thing he knew for sure that night was that Roy hated hotels, and he hated getting caught. That's why he would only use his own room.

The last thing he wondered that night was how he never fell in love with any of them.

The last thing he felt hatred towards that night were all the girls who had ever slept with Roy, touched Roy, looked at Roy, breathed the same air Roy breathed.

And the last thing he thought that night before he fell asleep was an indecent, love-induced wish that, if ever acted upon, might send the team crashing to its knees.

_I wish… I wish I knew how to make him scream like that…_


	4. Envy

**Prompt:** "Envy"  
**Summary**: _He's making my life a living hell. What is he, jealous?_  
**Words:** 399  
**Dating Status:** Before  
**Prelude:** "Hatred"  
**Continuation:** Undecided  
**Notes:** Weird clichés and a seme-Garth. Seven 'fucks.'

**Envy**

I slam the gill-necked punk into the nearest hallway wall. He's going to give me answers, and he's going to do it while I'm skinning him alive.

"Why the fuck are you doing this to me?" I practically scream. Karen's still around, somewhere, but I don't care. She can go screw her beloved 'Sparky' for all I care—this kid deserves this, and she knows it. "Why the fuck are you making my life a living hell?"

"Oh, it's not so bad," he sneers, awfully cocky for being pressed against a wall.

"Where do you get off—"

"What," he smirks. "Didn't you enjoy the anemone in your bed? Bet your girlfriend thought it was kinky."

"Shut the hell up, you fucking bastard!" I yank him away from the wall an inch and then shove him back into it, watching his mouth pull down in a momentary grimace. "You're really fucking insane, you know that? Why are you even bothering me?"

"It pisses me off," he growls, still smiling in that crooked, twisted Atlantean way he's come up with. "Stop bringing over stupid, swooning women, and maybe I'll stop."

Once again, I knock him back, this time eliciting a choked-out groan from him. "You'll stop anyway. What are you, jealous?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Not the answer I expect; I loosen my grip, slack-jawed. "You've got fangirls, too. Why don't you just fuck around with—"

"Not what I'm interested in."

I grin at the obvious mocking he's asking for. "Oh, c'mon. You know you're just jealous that all my girlfriends get to sleep with me. I know how much you want to fuck me, Fish Stick. But don't worry," I add. "There's enough of me to go around."

He barks out a laugh, but then his face looses all humor and becomes dead serious. He shoves off the wall, bowling me over, pressing me against the storage room door. He grabs the front of my shirt, face inches away.

"Enough of you to go around?" he hisses, and smears his mouth across mine. As he pushes away, he walks down the hallway a few steps before turning, smirk growing when I wipe my lips with the back of my wrist.

"What the _fuck_?" I spit out.

"You said there was enough of you to go around. Well," he smiles, licking his lips. "I'm just taking my fair share."


	5. Last

**Prompt:** "Last"  
**Summary**: _There's something frantic about the way he kisses me…_  
**Words:** 994  
**Dating Status:** During  
**Prelude:** None  
**Continuation:** Ehh… no…  
**Notes:** I like it. Shocking, I know! (Thank you for the reviews so far!)

**Last**

An arm reached around the Atlantean's waist, a mouth kissing the side of his neck. "What're you making?" Roy wondered sleepily, lips trailing the back of Garth's shoulder as the latter removed a pan of sausage from the stove.

Garth turned his head, meeting the smiling lips with his own. It was supposed to be a quick kiss; he knew that. But he kept his mouth on the archer's and put the pan on the counter, freeing his hands to reach around the back of the redhead's neck.

Roy groaned into his mouth, fully awake now, hands clasping where they met on the opposite side of Garth's body. After a few seconds, he pulled his head back and to the side, where the Atlantean couldn't reach it.

"Some of us," he muttered, breath choppy, turning back toward him. "Some of us don't have gills."

Garth smirked and leaned in to kiss him again, fisting the short, un-gelled hair between his fingers.

But then Roy pulled away again, quirking a brow. "Garth?"

The Atlantean's forehead creased, concern clouding his eyes. "Hm?"

"Why do you do that?"

He frowned; "Do… what?"

Roy took his hands from the teen's waist and held Garth's wrists, deliberately taking his hands from his hair. The action made Garth wince, but Roy ignored the response. "Do _that_. You kiss me like you're desperate, but you yourself never make the first move. Why?"

Garth ran a hand through his hair, shrugging it off. He struggled to keep a casual expression and turned back to the stove. "You're not making any sense," he muttered.

"No—hey, seriously!" Roy caught his arm and yanking him closer, leaning into Garth's line of vision when he tried to look away. "Something's wrong. You didn't do that before."

"It's just…" The dark-haired boy stopped when he felt his throat tighten, unable to move away but unable to explain.

"Garth…?"

"We've… we've been together for almost a year now," he said.

Roy nodded. "So…?"

"So I'm…" He tried to pull away, lips pursed in frustration. "So I'm just…"

The archer suddenly let him go; he stumbled back a few steps and then righted himself, crossing his arms and looking away from those piercing green eyes.

"Garth, please. What's wrong?"

His eyes narrowed involuntarily as angry tears started to bubble. "I'm waiting for you to leave me, _that's_ what," he hissed, teeth gritted.

Roy's severe expression vanished in an instant; he took a step forward, abruptly staying still when Garth took an equal step backward. "Why would I leave you?" he asked, incredulous.

"You've never had a girlfriend for more than a year," Garth mumbled, scrubbing furiously at his eyes. "Why should I be any different?"

"I didn't love them," he offered. "And when it comes down to it, they weren't exactly my type. Or my gender," he added with a humorless chuckle. "So you've just been afraid I'm going to leave you?"

Garth nodded, clutching his arms closer to his body. "It always feels like every touch… or smile… or _anything_ really… is the last one I'll get from you. But I don't want to be forward, because then you might… leave… sooner…"

Roy watched, helpless, as his prince crumpled in front of him, a mess of silent tears that wouldn't allow himself to be touched. He took another careful step forward and received the same reaction: Garth took a step back, leaving them the same distance apart.

"Garth," he said softly, holding out an arm without moving. Even from a number of paces away, the teen leaned away from the arm, hands still covering his face. A particularly violent tremor ran through his body, accompanied by a deep sob, and Roy could feel a hole begin to form in his chest. "Garth, _please_. I'm not going to lea—"

"That's what you're saying now!" Angry violent eyes flashed toward him, wet with tears but still spiteful. "What about in a week? A month? A year? An hour, Roy—a minute! What will you say _then_?"

"I'd say I love you," he said, still quiet, taking a step forward. "And that I'm here for you." Another step. "And I'm going to stay in love with you." A third step; Garth had stopped moving. "And as long as you want me, I'll stick around for you." A fourth step. "And if you ever need anything, I'll make it happen." A fifth step. "And if you want to kiss me, I think you should." A sixth step. "And if you have fears, I think you should tell them to me, so we can solve them together." A seventh step.

The eighth step he took without naming a reason beforehand; it closed the distance between them. "And then," he whispered, looking the teen in the eye. "I'd remind you that you"—he stabbed an accusing finger gently into Garth's chest—"made _me_ give up eating fish."

There was a moment of pause, and then Garth chuckled, wiping his eyes with the back of one wrist. "That certainly convinces me that you love me," he said, a grin weak across his features.

"It should," Roy laughed. He lightly pressed his mouth against Garth's jaw, trailing his lips along the solid line, reaching his chin and then kissing his lips. "'Cause I do."

The hydraulic door suddenly slid open, and Karen's irritated it's-too-early-to-be-awake tone broke the two boys apart. "Oi!" she snapped. "No homo-action in the kitchen!"

"Bee," Roy sighed, pulling away from—but not letting go of—Garth.

Their leader paused, rubbed one eye, and then caught the tear stains and red eyes of the Atlantean. She sighed and grabbed a few sausages before turning back toward the door, waving a dismissing hand behind her. "I suppose, if you _must_…"

Roy grinned and faced his partner again, but before he could react Garth's lips were firmly planted on his own, a kiss that was desperate in a new, bold, rather lusty way.


	6. Decision

**Prompt:** "Decision"  
**Summary:** _It was too much for me to bear. If I had to spend one more day living with him and staring at him and just watching him all the goddamn time… I'd go mad._  
**Words:** 621  
**Dating Status:** Before  
**Prelude:** None  
**Continuation:** Maybe?  
**Notes:** Subtext, What Subtext?! (…nevermind…) This was actually sitting in the wrong folder, so I didn't find it until now. Sorry… I'm clumsy when it comes to saving things hastily…

**Decision**

I had to tell him. It was too much for me to bear, and if I had to spend one more day living with him and staring at him and just _watching_ him all the goddamn time, thinking about how much I'd love to simply spend time with him or hold him or kiss him or fuck him or, _hell_, play _ping-pong_ with him, just to stare at his face longer… I'd go mad. Not the crazy kind, really, but the angry get-the-fuck-outta-my-way kind of angry that would drive him away, and _then_ I'd go the crazy-kind of mad and get depressed and start the circle all over again. And that would suck.

And so I ended up by his door near midnight, decision already made: I was going to tell him, despite the consequences, and at least let him know. I was fucking _Roy Harper_, beloved by teens and housewives everywhere, idolized by many but slept with by few—so why couldn't I get the balls enough to tell the only man I'd ever felt attracted to how I felt? No, that's such a girlie word, 'felt,' but I guess with the new burst of rainbow-unicorn-pinkshirted gay, I could think words like 'felt' when all manly inhibitions screamed out in horror.

I felt like any day now, I'd wake up and put on my uniform and realize that instead of a flashy red and yellow design, it would turn to a pink and soft-pastel yellow. My arrows would become hearts, my quiver covered in lace and silk and that fuzzy kind of fabric that Starfire attached to the Wester's toilet seat covers.

There was no answer when I knocked. The only reply came from down the hallway, a series of murmurs and throaty growls that sounded a bit like a caveman. One voice was Aqualad, but the other… I didn't recognize.

When their shadows fell across the light of the hallway, I practically fell around the corner, leaning around the wall until only my eyes were exposed to them. I was sure they couldn't see me, but I could see them perfectly when they walked in front of the window.

And fucking god in hell, I wished right then that I was the most blind, deaf, emotionless man that had ever been born.

The two were like one, Aqualad wrapped up in someone else's arms, being pushed backwards down the hallway through a kiss they were afraid to disconnect from. The tall, bronze-haired one slammed Aqualad into the wall beside the door, muttering something into his neck as webbed fingers groped for the right button on the panel. Face buried in he Atlantean's collarbone, the former blindly ripped down his shirt, running a hand down the shadowy, rippling chest until his fingers toyed with the waistline of the prince's jeans.

The sound Aqualad made in the back of his throat was utterly involuntary and too animalistic to have possibly come from the quiet, dark-haired teammate of mine. But it did, and that rumbling moan seemed to be the unlock code for the door; the hydraulics hissed and the two of them fell into the bedroom beyond, leaving me with Aqualad's wild, lusty grin imprinted in my head.

I didn't stay near his bedroom for fear of what I might hear, but in truth that's all I wanted. Assumptions could be made, but I wouldn't believe it until Aqualad himself told me. And even then, I might simply disregard it all.

I ended up making two decisions that night. The first, to tell Aqualad that I wanted him. The second, after I witnessed the charade of the lovers, was the decision to make him mine soon and keep him there forever.


End file.
